Spirou and Fantasio: Yaoi drabbles and one-shots
by Fantasiette
Summary: A little gathering of scenes and drabbles that came into my mind and that I wanted to develop, mainly concerning the yaoi relationship between Spirou and Fantasio. - Note: English is not my maternal language, thus I apologize in advance for mistakes and style clumsiness. These are my first fics ever, so please don't hesitate reviewing!
1. Triangular desire

**Triangular desire**

Fantasio was watering the hydrangea while smoking his pipe. Bare-chested, only wearing shorts, he was yet dying with heat. Thus, he was taking advantage of the situation to water himself plentifully:

"Ah…God it feels good", he sighed, enjoying the cold water gliding upon the elegant muscles of his arms and chest. He went as far as spraying his rebel blond hair, smiling with delight. Opening his eyes, he suddenly noticed that he was observed very carefully by his neighbor, who was dreamfully smiling, her face in her hand. Fantasio would have been flattered for that matter, if his neighbor wasn't a seventy-year-old lady and if she still had all her teeth in her mouth. Repressing a shudder that was more related to the old lady's perverse look than to the cold temperature of the water, Fantasio quickly turned off the tap, grumbling:

"Hell, there should be a law against old voyeur owls!

- Why are you grousing like a granny? Intervened Spirou's cheerful voice, who had just came out of the house, also lightly dressed.

- I'm pestering against the one who seems to have no more goal in her gloomy life but stamping my private life." Growled Fantasio

Spirou raised his eyes towards the old lady's house, examined it for a while, and smiled. Without a word, he reached out and enlaced Fantasio's slender waist. Fantasio stiffened:

"What the hell are you doing?

- I'm reminding those poor ladies, victims of your devastating charm, that you're mine and that I'm not sharing."

Fantasio turned around and imprisoned Spirou in his arms:

"That's gonna be weird for her! He laughed

- That's the point", answered Spirou, before capturing the blond one's lips. They kissed with passion for a long time, each one enjoying the other's taste. When they split up, Spirou raised satisfied eyes towards the neighbor's house, expecting to find closed windows and shutters, but his expression soon turned into scared surprise:

"Ok, now it's scary" he said.

Fantasio wheeled around and swore: whereas they both looked to dissuade her from ogling them, the old lady, on the contrary, demonstrated an even bigger interest, according to the large binoculars she was feverishly pressing on her wrinkled eyes, and pointing on the two lovers:

"Holy crap, one day I swear I'll burn that old magpie's dump!

- Ah…It can wait. As for me… Spirou whispered, slipping a hand into Fantasio's wet shorts.

- Wow wow wow, wait a minute will you, Fantasio exclaimed with a little thrilled laugh, let's behave properly, we're being watched, remember?

- Then let's settle our scores in private…

- Really, I will never be able to resist you…Fantasio murmured.

On that note, and turning his nose up at the entire world, the reporter lifted Spirou in his arms, and carried him inside their house, in order to quench that irresistible desire the ginger endlessly provoked in his heart.


	2. Chrysalid

Sitting next to the fire, under the starry sky, Spirou and Fantasio were slowly recovering from a hard day. Reaching out an arm to move the twigs, Spirou winced in pain. Noticing it, Fantasio straightened up:

" Your shoulder, again? He asked

- Yeah…But it's okay."

Fantasio stood up and rummaged through his bag. He took out a tube of ointment, and kneeled behind Spirou:

"I said I'm fine, Fantasio, the latter said

- Tut tut…. Take off your shirt" Fantasio answered.

Spirou sighed, however he obeyed. Grumbling with pain, he made his shirt slip along his body, and uncovered his wounded shoulder. Fantasio greased his hands with ointment, and gently placed them upon Spirou's itched skin, making him shudder:

" Aow. Damn it….I haven't botched it, have I…

- You had a hell of a luck, you mean!" Fantasio replied.

He started performing slow but firm circular movements on his skin, and Spirou closed his eyes, smelling the flowery perfume of the ointment mixing with the tobacco hints exuding from Fantasio's body. The latter had tall, thin hands, and their light dance on Spirou's injured skin did him a power of good.

On his side, Fantasio liked Spirou's skin, as he liked his entire body. It was soft and warm, and he liked contemplating the contrast between his own pale skin and Spirou's one, more suntanned. While greasing his fellow with ointment, he made the most of the opportunity to play with the muscles of his shoulder, enjoying their contact under his fingers. But that night, Fantasio had decided to take his chances; thus, he started expanding his massage. Gently, his hands moved from Spirou's shoulder to his neck. The ginger one didn't protest: dozing, he kept his eyes shut and let things happen. Touched, Fantasio shifted his hands towards Spirou's back, kneading his tired muscles. The latter moaned with contentment, and Fantasio realized with a smile that he was falling asleep.

After a while, Spirou started pitching forward. Fantasio, caught up in his game, took him in his arms to prevent him from falling, and brought him back against his chest, enlacing him with his long pale arms. There, he closed his eyes in his turn, and focused on the sensation of that body he was holding, on these hair abandoned against his shoulder, hair in which he buried his face in order to breathe deeply Spirou's smell. Pulling up his arms from the ginger's waist to his torso, Fantasio strengthened his embrace, and started rocking him back and forth. He told himself that he could stay like this forever, imprisoning the young journalist in his arms, breathing his smell, rocking him in his sleep.

But suddenly, Spirou woke up. Realizing he was in Fantasio's arms, he straightened up and turned to face him. There, their eyes met. Spirou contemplated Fantasio's so familiar face: his long and slightly round nose, his tall forehead crowned with blond strands, his few wrinkles and freckles boosting his dark apples at that time set alight by yet another flame than the one burning behind them. Fantasio also contemplated Spirou's young face, his red mane, and above all his slightly bulging lips. Slowly, gently, pressed by a force he no longer mastered, Fantasio leaned forward….

Further….

Slightly further again….

…. Until he touched, with his thin lips, Spirou's ones.

The latter didn't withdraw; on the contrary, he answered Fantasio's kiss, shyly. They separated for a minute, looked at each other in a new light, and suddenly, set alight by a desire restrained for way too long, they launched themselves back at each other. Spirou, his lips pressed against Fantasio's, enjoyed their taste of tobacco while taking the blond-haired's shirt as if his life was depending on it. Once Fantasio's chest got bared, the latter plunged Spirou's face into it, by putting one hand behind his head. The red-haired one took a deep breath of Fantasio's perfume, all his body radiating with an intense heat. As he was kissing his alabaster skin and his tits, as he was burring his nose into his slightly hairy pectoral hollow, Fantasio put his arms around him and clutched him so tight that Spirou got breath-taken. Their blazing ballet went on until they found themselves entirely naked. Then, admiring each other with a wild desire, in a sighing breath, they said:

"I love you".

Then Fantasio once more captured Spirou's lips, and, laying down in the chilly grass, pulled the love of his life into a passionate and incandescent night, which was only witnessed by the stars, and which will stay engraved in their ancient memory.


	3. A matter of style

**A matter of style**

It was seven PM. At Spirou and Fantasio's place, reigned quite a nervous atmosphere, because that night was the opening night of Fantasio's first photography exhibit. Thus, both our friends were actively getting ready, and Fantasio was drinking liters of coffee to "calm down", which, of course, was only making things worse. For an hour, he had been looking for something to wear, and he seemed to have suddenly lost his entire sense of clothing.

"How the hell are you supposed to dress up when you're an artist?" he kept repeating.

Spirou had swapped his red tracksuit for a beautiful black suit, with a pearl grey tie, and black leather shoes. His red mane had been combed, not without any difficulty, with a tube of hair gel. As he was investigating himself in front of the mirror, Fantasio got out of the bathroom:

"What do you think?" he asked

Spirou turned around and started:

"Hell, no! he exclaimed

- What" Hell, no?"

- First, a brown tweed suit is just not acceptable. Second, will you stop wearing those damn bow ties?

- What? Com'on, alright for the tweed. But the bow tie? Come on, it's very elegant! Fantasio cried out

- It's the ultimate of out-of-date, Fantasio."

Sighing, Fantasio went back into the bathroom, and Spirou sat on the bed. A few minutes later, Fantasio got out again, and this time Spirou actually burst out laughing:

"What now? The blond one exclaimed

- Fantasio…. What on EARTH is THAT?

- THAT is an artist suit, Sir.

- Ripped jeans, a beret and a stained shirt? Are you kidding me?

- Grmmmblmbmbb…..grumbled Fantasio, slamming again the bathroom door.

Spirou wiped a small tear of laughter:

"If I were you I'd definitely get a move on, you can't seriously be late for your own exhibition, can you?

- What if I can? A true artist knows playing hard to get.

- Yes, except that this time, Seccotine might cut the ribbon in your stead!

- Alright alright, no need to torture me, I'm coming."

Translating words into action, he got out of the bathroom, this time wearing a classic and sad grayish suit, but he hastened to turn aside. However, Spirou wasn't dupe: he stood up, crossed the room and turned Fantasio towards him, suddenly facing a revoltingly yellow bow tie. He sighed and hid his face into his hands:

"Fantasio. I'm trying to explain a very simple concept to you, but it doesn't seem to sink in. I flatly forbid you to wear a bow tie. First of all because yours are hideous, and I'm actually weighing my words, secondly because no one in the 21st century keeps wearing bow ties, except my grand-father, and more, he wouldn't dare wearing one in public. As a result, you take it off.

- No. Spirou, I am an adult, and I am the oldest….

- Oldest yeah, but not my grand-father!

- You are truly impossible, exclaimed Fantasio, losing his temper.

- And you are a bloody pain in the ….. You're the most stubborn person I've ever known. TAKE IT OFF!

- NO!"

Spirou sighed.

"Ok. You won. I'm not making love with you anymore as long as you have one of these horrors in your closet."

Fantasio flip-flopped, scandalized:

"Come on, Spirou, you wouldn't

- Wanna bet?

- But…. I've never made love to you wearing a bow tie, have I?! Fantasio yelled

- I DON'T GIVE A DAMN! cried Spirou, seeing you once with one of these is enough to stay engraved in my head!

- Rubbish! The things you hear! Fantasio exclaimed.

- Stop arguing and THROW THAT ATROCITY AWAY! And that suit, good heavens, that suit….

- WHAT WITH THE SUIT, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD? Fantasio belt out

- Com'on, this is way too small for you! And it's all worn out, and it hasn't got an ounce of style…. Come on, you can do better than that, can't you?

- Well, guess what, I'm trying! But as you're making a point of honour to condemn my entire wardrobe, I have to fall back on yours!"

Spirou let out a deep sigh, and clenched his fists:

" Fantasio, go change, or I'll rip your head off."

Fantasio took is most contemptuous look and headed back, like an offended cat, towards the bathroom. Slamming the door, he let out a very clearly audible "you little snot", to which Spirou answered with an even more audible "you old fart".

" Spirou! I forbid you! Fantasio yelled.

- So stop dressing up like my granddad!" Spirou answered with a venomous tone.

After a couple of minutes, Spirou started dozing off when the door opened again. This time, Spirou was breath-taken. In front of him stood an incredibly elegant man, wearing a long black velvet coat covering a white flannel shirt, opening on a puffed-out, dark red silk tie. Crowning his rebel blond hair, a black top hat enhanced his dark apples and his freckles. In his dark-buckskin-gloved hands, he carried a long ebony cane, ornamented with a sculptured silver handle. As he saw Spirou's dismayed look, he sighed:

"Ok, ok, I know, I look like a 19th century man. But I'm sorry, this is my style, and if you don't like it…."

The end of his sentenced was lost in the kiss Spirou suddenly stole from him. Opening his eyes, and discovering the ginger man hanging to his neck, Fantasio wrapped his arms around him, avoiding hurting him with his cane, and he let out a small laugh:

"Alright, you'll have to explain yourself. You're making a scene for a pathetic bow tie, and yet when I seem to have come straight out from the Second Empire, you like it?

- I do, because that does fit you perfectly. You are absolutely gorgeous." Spirou said, kissing him languorously:

"You're not that bad either, you know…, Fantasio articulated, gently chewing his lip.

- Ah, Sir, I'm so honoured…, Spirou answered, greedily kissing Fantasio's swan's neck.

- Oh, but you haven't seen anything yet, my dear friend…. Fantasio purred, holding Spirou tighter, sneaking a hand on the ginger's crotch.

- Ah, Sir, you're not counting on making us miss the diligence for the Palace, are you? Spirou whined, ripping off the red silk tie which separated him from Fantasio's pale and soft skin.

- Please know, young man, Fantasio said while Spirou covered his bare chest with eager kisses, that an aristocrat such as me does whatever pleases him. And it turns out that presently, I'm devilishly longing for you."

Pressing Spirou's face against his heart, burying him into his chest hair, Fantasio ripped off his other hand's glove with his teeth, and plunged it in Spirou's pants , making him let out a small thrilled laugh:

"But my Lord, what in heaven's name are we going to tell the emperor"? He asked, feigning innocence.

Fantasio majestically threw his cane and hat on the bed, lifted Spirou in his arms, and sank his eyes in Spirou's:

" To hell with the emperor, the empire and the entire universe, if they keep you away from my heart." He whispered, before kissing him lengthily. Slowly, without breaking their kiss, he carried Spirou on the bed, and laid him down. Their lips parted gently, and Spirou contemplated that splendid-looking man, his heart bursting with love:

"I believe I love you, my Prince, he said

- Not as much as I love you, young impetuous", Fantasio answered.

Spirou once more pulled the blond's face into an ardent kiss, burying his fingers in his golden hair:

"All things considered, he said, panting, I think that if you leaped on me right now with your yellow bow tie, I wouldn't even notice."

Fantasio giggled against his neck:

"I knew that you didn't stand a chance against my natural appeal, he said.

- Fantasio!

- Yes, my love?

- We're gonna miss the opening…! Spirou said, struggling against that irresistible desire increasing inside him, while Fantasio was gliding down, through languorous kisses, from his chest to his navel.

- To hell with the exhibition, with Seccotine, with the mayor…. They'll wait for us. The only thing that counts is the present moment…"

And that is how Spirou and Fantasio, wrapped in their universe and in the strength of their love, disregarded everything, from Fantasio's exhibition to the world and the Earth. Through wild and passionate embraces, they flew away, at least for an instant, towards the skies.


	4. One more second

A dark and wet corridor with cold stone walls, orders yelled with abrupt voices, the lapping sound of a puddle aggressed by dozens of feet, among them four bare, weary and uncertain ones: Spirou and Fantasio's. The two men, exhausted, in rags, bruised and crazed, had no more strength to struggle, and let themselves get led along that dark tunnel. Soon, they arrived in front of a door, which one of the soldiers opened. With their rifle barrels, the others sent the two friends clattering into yet another dark, smelly and cold room. They stood up slowly, and bravely faced their enemies, clearly knowing what was now awaiting them. The soldiers got in the room, and stood in line, at attention. The chief officer, with naughty eyes, like Caesar at the height of his Empire, put himself aside, and weighed up the two prisoners for a moment, and they looked him back with dignity.

At the end of that silent spar, the commander yelled:

"AIM!"

At the raise of the rifles, Spirou and Fantasio launched themselves into each other's arms, abandoning themselves in a last embrace:

"I love you, Spirou, Fantasio said.

- Forever, Fantasio", Spirou answered, holding him tight, burying his face into Fantasio's shoulder.

The two men each focused on the other's contact, on their smell, their body and this desperate hug into which they tried to pour the full scope of their mutual love, and of their fear about the imminent death that was on the verge of torning them apart from each other. Each second that passed by was a silent farewell, a second of utmost terror, of unbearable waiting.

Another precious second… during which they each endeavored to transmit courage and dignity to the other as they faced that unavoidable chasm, clinging to each other in order not to go mad with terror.

One more second… which allowed each of them to become intoxicated with life, but above all with the other, that other they cherished more than anything, and whom they absolutely wanted to prevent from sliding towards the abyss.

One more second…during which they each blessed the sweet music that came from their still beating hearts, listening to the desperate duet of these two broken hearts, each one longing for becoming a single entity with the other one single entity facing the eternal night, one single entity of unbreakable love, in order to transcend death.

One more second…

One more second…

One more second….

Then….


	5. Dancing party

Dancing party at the Benson's, a very wealthy American family. Spirou and Fantasio, both invited, are dying with boredom, sitting in the large reception hall, looking at all these old couples dancing in a cold and stiff way. A melodious waltz suddenly resounds, and Fantasio, inspired, gets up and grabs Spirou's hand:  
"Fantasio, what the hell do you think you're doing?  
- I'm inviting you to dance, Fantasio laughs.  
- Are you mad? You know I dance as a three-legged cow.  
- Hush, shut up, and come into my arms." Fantasio retorts.  
The blond man pulls Spirou who gets up eventually, blushing like hell. Fantasio, still holding the ginger's hand, makes him spin, and Spirou lands straight into the reporter's arms.  
" Fantasio…  
- Shhh…. Don't be afraid, let yourself go." The blond one whispers.  
He encircles Spirou's waist with one arm, and enlaces the fingers of his other hand into the ginger's.  
"Come on, we're going to be ridiculous!  
- In front of who? All these old yokels in suit? Spirou, look at me, darling."  
The adventurer looks up:  
"Ignore them. Just look at me, and only me, and let me guide you. Trust me…" Fantasio says with his deep and tender voice Spirou can't resist. The ginger boy gives out an embarrassed giggle, and looks away again, furtively peering around him. Fantasio puts a hand on his cheek and forces him to look back at him:  
"Tututut….I said: look at me. Come on, it's okay, relax. I'm here… relax…"  
He fixes his gaze into Spirou's amber apples, and enlaces his hand again, then, without stopping looking right into his eyes, Fantasio starts revolving, taking Spirou into a slow and romantic waltz. At the beginning, Spirou has trouble letting himself go: he feels clumsy, awkward, his cheeks are as red as his hair. But slowly, he dives deeper into his companion's eyes, and he finally feels light as a butterfly, letting Fantasio's arms guide him. Soon, he closes his eyes and puts his head against his shoulder, burying his nose and lips into the blond man's neck, who holds both their hands against his chest. Spirou feels good: he breathes Fantasio's perfume, feels his heart beating under his hand, and he tells himself that he wouldn't mind remaining there forever. Kissing Spirou's blazing hair, Fantasio also closes his eyes and, following the rhythm of the music, progressively takes Spirou away, into the immense, moonlit garden.

There, he stops, and encircles Spirou's shoulders, hugging him tight. The latter gives out a small pleased whine:  
"I didn't know you were such a beautiful dancer, he whispers, his face still nestled into Fantasio's swan's neck.  
- Proof that we learn something new every day…." Fantasio purrs, enjoying the contact of that body he loves against his.  
Spirou raises his greed-sparkling eyes:  
" Tell me, is there some other hidden talent I should know about?  
- Mmmmh… I can give you some examples….", he answers with his deep voice.  
As back-up to his words, the blond guy buries a hand into the ginger's hair, and presses his lips on his. While kissing him, he lays him down in the grass and sneaks a hand into the young man's pants, making the latter giggle:  
"Do you know I'm still underage in this country? He asks, separating his lips from Fantasio's delicious ones.  
- I love danger, the blond answers, unbuttoning Spirou's shirt.  
- What if I screamed for help?" Spirou whispers.  
He straightens up and turns Fantasio over, dominating him:  
"Ah, I guess I'll be the one to scream for help." Fantasio laughs.  
Spirou, his eyes blazing, firmly maintains Fantasio's wrists against the ground and dives on his uncovered throat:  
"You won't have time…."  
While taking delight in kissing Fantasio's soft and pale skin, he almost rips his skirt off with his teeth:  
"Hey! That's a Bugo Doss shirt you bloody….OoOoh by Jove…"  
The blond guy's protest gets drowned in a great wave of pleasure, as the ginger man greedily kisses his bare chest, licking his marble skin, titillating his blond chest hair between his lips. Mad with desire, Fantasio frees his hands from Spirou's grip, and encircles him with his arms, holding him tight against his chest, as if he wanted to make him get inside him:  
"Holy cow, you're driving me crazy, he pants, putting a hand on the back of Spirou's head, pressing his face harder into his chest, keep going…."  
Spirou, excited by his elder friend's moans, doesn't need to be asked twice. He goes down, slowly, kissing Fantasio's stomach and navel, towards his crutch, already hard as steel. But the blonde suddenly stops him:  
"Spirou….I'm dying for it, but nonetheless… We are right in the middle of a garden owned by an old heterosexual couple who abide by the rules of the utmost American Puritanism.  
- Mmmh… And I'm twenty and you twenty-nine, Spirou whispers, appearing to think.  
- Exactly", Fantasio agrees.  
They look at each other for a moment, Spirou still straddling Fantasio, but suddenly the blonde turns the redhead over and once more presses his face against his chest:  
"To hell with them, let them lapidate me, let them impale me, let them burn me in public, he says, tossing his head back, abandoning his chest to Spirou's soft lips, I'll die happy!  
- Wait… Spirou says, making Fantasio's chest hair slide through his lips with delight, let's go over there, so we can break the law in complete tranquility. Come on, let's move it, I'm going to die."

Still clutching to each other, they start executing rather a strange dance, half bouncing half crawling, in order to take cover under the great pines at the back of the garden. There, Fantasio jumps on Spirou again, stealing his lips with ferocity, taking his pants off with surprising speed:  
"Get undressed, he orders Spirou  
- Aaah… Fantasio, I'm going to explode, the ginger whines, while Fantasio licks his neck.  
- So am I, so get the hell out of these bloody pants."  
Spirou obeys: he takes his pants off and turns Fantasio over on his back:  
"Aouch! Damn pine leaves… the latter exclaims.  
- You want us to go somewhere else? Spirou asks  
- Errr… Frankly I feel like I'm lying on a Fakir's bed, Fantasio whines  
- Jesus… Then get up, you big baby!  
- Is it me you're calling big baby? Fantasio purrs, getting up to kiss Spirou's muscled chest  
- Fantasio, for heaven's sake, let's hurry up and find ourselves a place, I'm suffering in a martyr-like way", Spirou whimpers.  
They resume their weird, half-crawling half-bouncing dance, particularly unpleasant on pine leaves:  
"Thousand hells, what an idea having pines in one's garden!  
- What an idea making love right into it, I'd say.", Spirou retorts.

They head towards the western side of the garden, which seems scattered with oak trees, dragging their clothes, kissing the best they can. They finally reach their destination, and Fantasio roars, pulling Spirou back in his arms. As he straddles him, ready to send them both in Heaven, Spirou stops him:  
"Shh…Wait!  
- Oh for crying out loud, WHAT NOW?, Fantasio exclaims  
- HUSH! Spirou says, putting his index on his lips, rejecting Fantasio's greedy chest.  
- You're the devil, you know that? No wonder they burned gingers in the Middle-Ages!  
- Oh for heaven's sake, will you SHUT THE HELL UP?" Spirou snaps, losing his temper.  
Fantasio, refusing to let go of Spirou, listens reluctantly. Soon, he clearly hears small feminine squeaks, and male growls:  
"Oh, come on, Jean-Hubert, plow it!" the woman suddenly cries.  
Spirou and Fantasio look at each other, disgusted:  
"Plow it? Spirou whispers  
- Jean-Hubert? Fantasio answers.  
- Ok, you can't find any better turn-off.  
- Right… Then sound a retreat, commander.  
- Damn it, we're not going to go around the entire garden crawling half naked, are we? Spirou exclaims.  
- I don't give a toss! Come on, get a move on!"  
As a result, the two partners step back, cross the lawn in the other way, this time at full speed, laughing like teenagers. They reach another part of the garden, where stands a small wooden shack. As Spirou throws himself back at Fantasio's neck, knocking him over in the leaves, growling with desire, triumphantly taking his pants off, a masterful whip lash resonates into the night, making our two friends stop at once:  
"Oh yes…. You've been naughty, haven't you? And now you want to be punished, don't you?" they hear a loud voice say.  
" I can't believe this... have we landed in some…fuckpad for wacky bastards or something? Fantasio cries, infuriated.  
- God, I wish I didn't understand English…." Spirou sighs.  
New whisp lash.  
"All right, I guess we both agree? Spirou grouses  
- Errrrr, well yes but this time I'm stark naked, my love, Fantasio points out.  
- Well so be it! There's no time to lose. Come on, shake a leg, for Christ's sake!"

They run in the other way, Fantasio leading the race, praying for no one in the big house to have the sudden and weird urge to look through the window…  
" Fantasio!  
- WHAT?  
- Not this way, you idiot, it's Jean-Hubert's spot!  
- Oh come on, pinch me!  
- Stop grousing and follow me! Here, this should motivate you…." Spirou says, nimbly taking off his trunks.  
Fantasio, at the sight of that naked body even Praxitele could never sculpt for what it is worth, feels to have grown wings, and he starts racing Spirou, ignoring the entire world:  
"Beware, Spirou, if I catch you, I wear you're going to spend quite an explosive moment.  
- But I'm dying for it, you moron, QUICKLY!" Spirou answers, laughing.

At last, they reach a peaceful spot. Spirou stops under the trees, and Fantasio hits him hard. Pushed by the blonde's momentum, they roll in the leaves, until Fantasio finds himself dominating Spirou, triumphant. He listens carefully…. Silence:  
" Aaaaah….. At least you're at my mercy, and you're mine….Only mine…" he purrs.  
He dives on the ginger's lips, avidly kisses his neck, his chest, his stomach, and when he's on the verge of literally exploding, he starts positioning himself between Spirou's thighs, but suddenly he stops, and his face turns into a horrified expression:  
"Oh, my sweet sainted aunt, he says.  
- Fantasio, seriously, stop kidding, I can't take it anymore.  
- Spirou…. I'm really sorry, you're going to kill me, Fantasio says, with a begging look.  
- What?" Spirou asks, dazed. He raises interrogative eyes at Fantasio, then suddenly his face turns into an expression of immediate comprehension, then anger.  
"No…. You're kidding me, Fantasio, right? Tell me you're kidding me!  
- Damn it, they must have fallen with all that mess.  
- OH MAN, I JUST CAN'T BELIEVE THIS! Spirou belts out  
- Shhhhhhh! They're going to hear you! Fantasio whispers, panicked.  
- I don't give a rat's ass! You've been arousing me for like half an hour, and now you're telling me YOU DON'T HAVE A CONDOM?" Spirou yells.


	6. Talkative alcohol

The door opens suddenly, and a tall, blond, thirty-year-old man enters the hall, supporting another smaller, twenty-year-old and more muscled man, provided with a magnificent red mane:  
" For crying out loud….I told you you couldn't hold your drink, Spirou for heaven's sake.", the blonde grumbles.  
Spirou answers with a blaring bawdy song, which absolutely contrasts with his entire being.  
" SHHHH! Will you shut up, seven hells? Fantasio scolds  
- Hihihihihihiiiii….HohohohooooOOOO!" Spirou laughs, tears pouring from his eyes.  
Fantasio can't take it anymore. He lifts Spirou in his arms, like some very weird princess.  
"Com'on, let's get you in bed!  
- No! Put me down! I don't want to sleep! Spirou vigorously protests, hitting Fantasio's chest with his fists.  
- Ah, come on! Don't be a child! Come on, calm down…" Fantasio answers, trying to control him.  
But the ginger is too strong, he gets off Fantasio's arms and heavily falls on the floor. There, to Fantasio's great surprise, he bursts into tears:  
" You don't like me! He yells  
- Oh come on, of course I do, I do like you Spirou, come on. Come here….Come into Fantasio's arms…. You will see, I'm going to take you somewhere incredible…. It's called a bed, and it's fantastic, you'll see!" Fantasio says, smiling in spite of him.  
Spirou, the great Spirou, so noble and brave, so moralistic and perfect, now completely drunk and crying like a child: it's so rare that Fantasio can't prevent himself from enjoying the situation, at least a little.

He leans towards his ginger who's still crying into his hands:  
"Now, now….It's over, it's all right…. Shhhhh, don't cry…Come here…" says Fantasio tenderly: getting Spirou's arms around his neck, he lifts him from the floor, wincing:  
"By Jove, my kidneys… I'm getting too old for this…." He grumbles.  
Spirou, half crying half laughing, encircles Fantasio's body with his brawny legs, and enlaces his neck in his arms, almost suffocating him.  
" I do loooooove you, Fantasioo! He bawls into his ear, making the blonde grimace.  
- Yes….Argll….So…arg…So do I, Spirou…but….ARF….Don't clutch me like that, ten thousand thunders….And stop yelling like this, rogntudjuuu, you're gonna deafen me…" Fantasio stifles.  
He succeeds in loosening Spirou's grip a little, then enlaces him in his arms, taking guilty pleasure… He listens to Spirou's interspersed-with-sobs giggles, muffled into Fantasio's jacket, then he tightens his embrace, and undertakes the ascent of the stairs, towards Spirou's room:  
"Come on, hold still now… I don't particularly look forward to breaking my neck.  
- Neck-schmeck! HAHAHAHAHAHA! Spirou belts out, throwing his head back.  
- SPIROU, BILLIONS OF BILLIOUS THUNDERS! Fantasio gets angry  
- BILLIONS OF BILLIOUS THUNDERS! WOUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"  
Fantasio puts a hand into Spirou's red hair and pulls his face by force into his shoulder:  
"I said, hold still, ROGNTUDJU!" Fantasio curses, while Spirou cries laughing into his jacket.  
Still holding firmly is face against him, supporting his pelvis with his other arm, Fantasio resumes the ascent of the stairs, praying for Spirou not to make any sudden movement:  
"There, theeere. It's all right….Shhhhh… that's a nice boy, he says tenderly, but with a slightly tensed voice, holy cow you weigh a bloody ton….  
- Who is Spirou? Hihihihihihihiiiiiiiiii….." Spirou's laughter sounds, muffled into Fantasio's jacket.

Fantasio climbs the stairs, slowly but surely, holding Spirou tight against him, torn between exasperation and laughter, contaminated with Spirou's.  
He finally arrives on the landing, and sighs. But when he releases Spirou's head, the latter once more throws his head back, and lets out a blaring laugh:  
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!  
- AaaaAAARH! I can't believe it, I CAN'T! Spirou! I said: HOLD STILL, DAMN IT!" Fantasio exclaims.  
He tries once more to burry Spirou's face into his shoulder, but the latter resists:  
" No… LET ME GO! He cries, repelling Fantasio's chest.  
- NO WAY!" Fantasio yells  
Alcohol and exhaustion finally overwhelming the ginger, he collapses again into Fantasio's arms. As the latter presses his face tighter into his shoulder, Spirou bursts into harrowing sobs:  
"You don't lohohohoooove meeeeee…..  
- Oooh noow noow, Spirou come on….Shhhh calm down, it's all right, see? I'm holding you in my arms, I'm giving you a biiiig hug. See? Fantasio's giving you an enormous hug because he looooves you very much. Shhhhhh, it's over, I'm here." Fantasio answers, rocking the ginger while clutching him hard in order to prevent him from freeing himself from his arms and making them both fall into the stairs behind them. He heads towards the bedroom, as Spirou loudly sobs into his shoulder:  
"Billious thunders, I should film the mess you are, seriously. I would certainly get the Pulitzer price!  
- You traitor." Spirou answers, with impressive lucidity.

Fantasio opens Spirou's bedroom door by pushing it with his shoulder, and collapses on the bed with Spirou, exhausted. The ginger howls with laughter, and refuses to let go of Fantasio, clinging to him with all his strength.  
" Hiiiihihihihiiiii my buddy! You are my… HIPS! Best bud…..HIPS! BUDDY!  
- Damn it, now the hiccup….Will you let go of me, BLOODY HELL! Fantasio exclaims.  
- NO WAY! BLOODY….HIPS! HELL!"  
A fierce fight follows between the two men: Fantasio, letting out the most sophisticated curses of his famous repertoire, tries to loosen Spirou's grip around his neck, and his legs around his waist, but in vain:  
"Billions of billions of bilious thundering storms, are you made of STEEL OR SOMETHING?" he cries.  
He finally succeeds in unclenching an arm, but suddenly Spirou's laughter once more turns into tears, but this time much more violent than before. He holds on again to Fantasio with all his strength:  
" ARGL… Sp… Spirou….., Fantasio stifles  
- Don't….HIPS ! don't leave me… HIPS ! Fan….HIPS! Fantasio…. I beg you…, Spirou's exclaims in a panicked voice.  
- But….Argl….Spirou, you're suffocating me…"  
On these words, Spirou loosens his grip a little, but presses his face against Fantasio's neck, burying his face into his skin, flooding it with tears:  
" You…HIPS! You don't understand HIPS! Fanta….. HIPS! Fantasio…  
- That's enough, Spirou, you're completely drunk, Fantasio tells him off, now really exasperated.  
- I love you….HIPS!  
- I already told you so did I, Spirou, now let go of me, ROGNTUDJU!  
- NO! Spirou cries out, wait….HIPS! you don't understand….HIPS! you don't hear….HIPS! Listen to me…."  
Fantasio stops, suddenly becoming aware of the true despair that resounds into Spirou's voice.  
"I love you, Fantasio, don't leave me….I…HIPS! I love you with all my heart." The ginger suddenly lets out.  
Fantasio feels like he got struck by lightning. Spirou, in the grip of a deep distress, harrowingly sobs against him:  
"Fan….HIPS! Fantasio….Hold me…HIPS! Hold me in your….HIPS! in your arms, one time….HIPS! Just once….And then I will disappear … HIPS! Disappear for….HIPS! forever, I promise. "  
Touched, Fantasio can't believe what he's hearing. His exasperation, his anger and his fatigue vanish at once. He puts his arms over Spirou's, and makes his wet face slide from his swan neck to his alabaster chest. There, he pulls him into a powerful hug, and once more buries a tender hand into his red mane, wedging Spirou's face into the blond hair that ornament his chest.  
Happy and moved, he rocks back and forth, holding his companion tight in his arms:  
"Shhhhh….Calm down, Spirou….There is no discussion of you disappearing. Wherever you'll go, I'll go. Forever." Fantasio whispers in his deep voice.  
Spirou disengages himself from the blonde's embrace, and raises his red-as-his-hair eyes towards him:  
"What…HIPS! You… You are HIPS! You are drunk too?" he asks, incredulous.  
Fantasio smiles, and amorously strokes his face:  
"Hell I'm not. I've never been so serious", he answers tenderly, before he gives Spirou the languorous kiss they both have been dreaming of for so many years.


	7. Snowy tears

** I**

As the Castle of Champignac is dozing off under his white snowy coat, a man suddenly appears at the courtyard gates. Tall, wearing a long, dark coat, he is very thin, and has blond hair. His head is low, and he is walking slowly, stumbling in the heavy snow. His blue eyes are empty, his face looks tired and weary. Fantasio, for it was him, was exhausted, and desperately sad. He was coming back from a long and dangerous trip, where he and Spirou had to investigate on the disappearance of a scientist, specialized in the nuclear field. This man was now in perfect security, and technically, the mission was a success. But Fan tasio was devastated, for he was a survivor….

Indeed, Spirou was dead.

Spirou is dead.

These words were sounding again and again in his brain, tearing his heart, ripping his soul. And as he walked slowly towards the castle, he wished nothing but having died in Spirou's stead. In his mind, he couldn't stop playing the terrible scene, again and again. The young man being brought on top of the cliff, as himself, far from him, was struggling against the soldiers who were clutching his wrists:  
"No...No! Not him, please. Please! Take me ! Take me you bloody bastards! NO!" he was crying out, while he could see the red mane he cherished blazing under the sun, one last time, as an everlasting challenge for death.

Then the moment came, and within a second that felt hours to Fantasio, Spirou fell under the sound of the rifles, tearing the blonde's heart into pieces. Fantasio collapsed and fell to the ground, following his soulmate's movement while the latter was falling into the water, and screamed in pain, crying as never before. The grief was so deep that it felt physical, and Fantasio thought he would go mad with horror.  
"NOOOO! Spirouuu! My love….Oh my God…" He kept screaming, his body shaking, his heart falling into the darkest abyss.  
"My only love…."

From this moment, Fantasio had been nothing more than an empty shell, longing for death, lost in a world without Spirou. His heart was always full of tears, yet his eyes were dry, for they had no more to pour. He didn't utter a word for weeks, barely eating, suffering every second of every minute of every day. And day after day, they kept interrogating him, believing that killing Spirou would destroy Fantasio enough to make him talk. But they were wrong: Fantasio was far, and his suffering was so intense that nothing they could do to him would make a difference. Finally, they let him go. He couldn't even remember exactly how long he stayed in prison, how he was released, and how he got back home.

Their house had seemed terribly empty, like his heart. At first, he wondered if he would have the strength to enter it. When he finally did, he slowly meandered in the hall, then in the living-room, the kitchen…..and their bedroom.  
There, the atmosphere that reigned in the entire house felt even colder, and Fantasio suddenly realized that until the very last moment, he had hoped that all of this was just a terrible nightmare, that Spirou was waiting for him at home, that he would kiss and hold him when he hears his terrible dream.

But Spirou wasn't there. And he would never be there anymore.

The truth was too atrocious: Fantasio brusquely collapsed on the bed, and tears came back to his eyes. Curled up on the frozen blanket, he cried with all his heart, his entire body shaking uncontrollably. Pressing his nose in the sheets, he tried desperately to smell his perfume, once again, one last time, as he feared it would eventually fade away from his memory. But he couldn't find it, and his pain turned into anger. He stood up and yelled:  
"It's unfair! YOU SHOULD HAVE TAKEN ME INSTEAD!"  
On that note, utter rage overwhelmed his heart, and he kept screaming while breaking all he could in the place.  
After a few minutes, exhausted, he fell on his knees and he spread his arms in the air, his eyes raised to the ceiling:  
"Come on…Take me….But make him come back. Please."  
Panting, he waited for a moment, fatigue and despair making him almost believe someone was actually listening to his grief.

But no one was listening.

And Spirou wasn't back.

Desperate, but defeated, crushed by the cruel reality of his loss, Fantasio curled himself up on the ground, and, after sobbing for hours, he finally fell asleep.

** II**  
Fantasio spent two days prostrate on the ground, sleeping, then waking up and crying until he fell asleep again, and dreamt about Spirou. He felt like keeping doing this forever, just to see Spirou once again in his dreams, until his face fades away. But on the morning of the third day, he took a decision. He couldn't stay in this house. He needed a friend. And the only friends he had left were the Count and Spip, who stayed with Pacome, in Champignac.

As he arrived at the heavy door of the Castle, he rang the bell.  
When the Count opened it, he started, and the two men stayed face to face:  
"Wooden sword, Fantasio...", the Count let out.  
Pacome couldn't stop himself, and pulled Fantasio in a firm embrace, tears rolling down his wrinkled cheeks.  
"My boy... My dear friend..."  
Fantasio couldn't speak. He was empty. So empty.

Eventually. the old man took him into the living room, and sat him on the couch. He went to kitchen and came back with a huge cup of tea. As Fantasio took it, the Count fell in his armchair and burst out:  
"My God, you're alive..."  
Fantasio didn't let him rejoice too much  
"Spirou...Spirou is dead, M. Count."  
These words were like fiery spears plunging into his heart, ripping his soul apart. He closed his eyes in pain, and his face twisted in a wince, while he wiped a tear from his left eye. The Count didn't say anything. Thus, while clutching his cup of tea and staring at his shoes, Fantasio started telling their adventure, the last he had the honour to live with Spirou.

"As you know, Spirou and I, he began, wincing at the name of his beloved partner, we decided to investigate upon the disappearance of Dr Nutshell, who works in the nuclear field. After a couple of months, we finally managed to find him. He had been made prisoner by a powerful Serbian general, who wanted to build a revolutionary weapon he could use against Russia and the rest of the world. Spirou and I succeeded in freeing him after many battles, and we hid him. But as I was trying to reach the Embassy in France in order to get out of the country alive, I fell into an ambush, and was made prisoner."

Fantasio remained silent for a moment, then resumed:  
"As you can easily imagine, Spirou decided to come and release me: but that was precisely what the general was expecting, and as clever as Spirou is (the Count noticed the use of the present), the General got him anyway. They trapped us and tortured us for days, trying to make us confess where we had hidden the doctor, but none of us would talk".

New stop. He was arriving to the worst part.  
"So they used a different strategy. They took Spirou to a cliff, far from the general quarters and..."  
The tears had come again, rolling down his face:  
"They took Spirou away and...God...this is so hard..., he sobbed, they took him and..."  
He could say no more. The terrible truth remained stuck in his throat. He put his cup on the table, and buried his face in his hands, sobbing painfully:  
"They made me watch ... I couldn't do anything. They killed him...They killed the man I have spent all my life with. The only man I have ever loved. His body fell in the water, and he's lost forever."  
His sobs became more violent, and he poured his endless sorrow in his hands. The Count reached out and sat next to him, gently patting his shoulder, his eyes wet:  
"There, there, son. Tell me something, my friend... Am I right when I say that you were placed quite far from the execution spot, that you had no way of seeing his face, yet you distinctly saw his red hair?" he asked very seriously.  
Fantasio raised his wet eyes upon Pacome's gentle face:  
"How on earth do you know that?"  
The Count smiled:  
"Because he told me."  
Fantasio stared back at him, without understanding.  
"What do you mean?"  
The Count's smile widened:  
"I mean, my dear Fantasio, that Spirou is alive." 

**III**

Fantasio couldn't utter a word. He kept looking at the Count, wondering if he had eventually completely lost his mind or if it was the cruelest joke of all times.  
"What the hell are you saying, Mr. Count?! I saw Spirou die!  
- Tuut tuut. I beg your pardon, but that's not what you said.  
- I said….  
- Please, Fantasio, listen to me. You confirmed to me that you couldn't see Spirou's face from where you were.  
- But his hair, his clothes… I know it was him!" Fantasio cried out.  
The Count smiled again:  
"It was a frame-up, my friend. Now listen to me…"  
Firmly, he placed the cup of tea back into Fantasio's hands, while the reporter stared at the Count as if the latter was a ghost.  
"Two months ago, Spirou came knocking on my door. He was in the same state as you are right now: he burst into tears, told me everything. How you were both captured and tortured, and how you were killed before is very eyes.  
- What?  
- Wait a moment, my friend. I'm going to explain everything. I'm sorry for letting you tell the whole story once more, before telling you the truth. But I needed to be sure: I know now, that both your executions were fake. It was a mise en scène designed to break you, to make you lose control and tell them everything they wanted to know. But they failed to measure the depth of your love. They didn't think that making both of you believe the other was dead would, on the contrary, push you to shut yourself in a deeper silence."  
Fantasio kept silent. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was afraid to believe it, as such a disillusion would definitely kill him.  
"What convinced me, is that both the execution scenes were set up in the exact same way, and both Spirou and you told me about the hair blazing in the sun. And, as I can see on your finger, you are wearing Spirou's ring. Or at least, a replica. Just as Spirou's wearing yours. It was all part of their masquerade."  
Fantasio was astonished. The Count was right: the day of the execution, they gave him what he thought was Spirou's ring:  
"May it help you remember what your silence cost." They told him.  
On their sixth anniversary, they bought two identical rings, and decided to wear them until the end of their lives, as an everlasting proof of their unbreakable bond. From this time, none of them had ever taken it off, and Fantasio had been destroyed when they gave it back to him, because it made Spirou's death even realer.  
"Where is he, M. Count? he asked in a white voice.  
- Ah... I was getting to that point." said the Count in an embarrassed voice  
Fantasio held his breath, fearing to hear what the Count had to say.  
"He left two days ago and I haven't seen him since. He used to go walk for hours but he always came back at nightfall. I'm worried."  
At this moment, they heard frenetic taps at the window:  
"Spip! At last! I asked him to watch Spirou." The Count exclaimed.  
He opened the window, and when the little squirrel saw Fantasio, he marked a pause, then jumped in his hands, squeaking with delight:  
"Hey Spip, yes, it's good to see you too, buddy."  
Fortunately, Spip had stayed with the Count during their trip. But when Spirou came back alone, he understood that Fantasio would never come back, and it broke his little heart. Thus, he was pressing his nose into Fantasio's skin, who held him gently against him. But soon, he carried the squirrel up to his blue eyes, and asked him:  
"Spip, tell me, where is Spirou?"  
The animal jumped from his hands, and fell to the ground, squeaking, and making gestures they couldn't understand. Desperate, he ran through the door, calling them to follow him. They arrived in the library, and watched the squirrel climb on the highest bookshelf. Suddenly, they both understood:  
" My God...  
- The old tower..." Fantasio breathed. 

**IV**

Spirou was so tired and weary that he barely felt the frozen wind or the heavy snow falling on him. His eyes were lost in the white horizon, unspoiled canvas on which the scene of Fantasio's death kept being depicted by a cruel hand. On his open right palm sit Fantasio's ring, only object he had left from the man he loved from all his heart. When he got released, he felt like he had no other place to go than the Count's castle, where Pacome and Spip were waiting for him. During all the journey back, he wondered how he would tell them the terrible news, when he himself couldn't accept it.

As he was contemplating the beauty of the landscape under the snow, Spirou was thinking. Every night since he came back, he had the same dream in which Fantasio would die calling his name, begging him for help. But a dozen nights ago, he had another dream. Fantasio appeared like an angel, more handsome than ever, his eyes serene. Spirou fell on his knees, crying with rage:  
"I failed... I FAILED TO SAVE YOU! You died because of me..."  
Fantasio kneeled before him, and gently placed a finger under his chin, forcing the young man to look at him:  
"No, honey, no... he said, baby, look at me"  
Spirou raised his tearful eyes upon the beloved face:  
"Spirou, none of this is your fault. I was stupid enough to fall in that ambush.  
- I should have saved you... I'm miserable..."  
Fantasio kissed his forehead:  
"My love, listen to me. You have to be strong...  
- Oh please... don't give me that...  
- I'm serious. Spirou, you are young. Don't waste your life on me."  
Spirou gave him an angry look:  
"How am I supposed to live without you? I love you, damn it, I have been loving you since as far as I can remember. I can't do that, Fantasio, you hear me? I can't! I….."  
Fantasio pulled him in his arms and held him tight:  
"Shhhh... now, now...you have to, my love. Do it for me, okay?"  
Spirou wanted this moment to last forever, but it was a dream, and Fantasio was already fading away all around him. His arms, his chest, which were once part of his world, were leaving him alone, forever:  
"Don't go...  
- I have to, my love, answered Fantasio, his voice already sounding far.  
- Fantasio please... I love you so much... Don't go!  
- I'll be living in your heart, as long as you will remember us. I love you, Spirou, and I always will."  
And he disappeared, leaving Spirou in the dark, clutching his arms around him, still holding Fantasio's ghost:  
"Don't go..."

"I tried, Fantasio."  
Spirou's voice sounded feeble and weak in the cold howling wind.  
"I tried, as you asked. I tried to live without you."  
New stop. The snow kept falling on him, imperturbable.  
"I can't."  
A tear rolled on his cheek; he lowered his head in pain. Then he rose again, still talking to the wind.  
"You said I had to be strong. But I have no more strength..."  
The wind moaned, voices seemed to echo in the air. A new tear appeared on Spirou's face:  
"...because it all came from you, you were my strength, Fantasio."  
A sob rose into his throat:  
"I miss everything about you, he said his wet cheeks freezing, I miss your laugh, I miss your voice singing under the shower in the morning, I miss the sound of your footsteps while you're making coffee, I miss the smell of your pipe while you're reading, I miss the sound of your fingers on the keyboard when you write, I miss the sight of the keys you have forgotten on the pedestal table, which I know you're going to come back for...I miss..."  
His voice died in his throat, overwhelmed by emotion.  
"I miss your lips on my eyes when you're getting up, I miss your arms around me when I come to bed late at night, I miss kissing you when you sleep, holding you when you're cold. I miss your tantrums and angers, your clumsiness and your perpetual blunders, your stubbornness and your silly, so silly jokes in the worst situations."

Submerged by memories, Spirou finally broke out, and sobbed in the snow.  
"I miss you, Fantasio. God, I miss you..."  
Taking the ring to his lips, he kissed it, drowning it under his tears.  
"I miss you every second, of every minute, of every hour of everyday. So I ask you once more: how can I live with the pain? How can I live without you, when you've been with me since as far as I can recall? How can I live in a world where you're not by my side, where I can't hear you laugh and smell your perfume? How can I live when I know that I will never stop loving you, Fantasio?"  
The voices in the wind kept moaning, but didn't answer. So Spirou closed his hand on the ring, and raised his eyes towards de skies, out of defiance.  
"I don't want a life, Fantasio, if you're not there to share it."  
The voices in the wind seemed to be crying out his name.  
"I'm not afraid of dying, I never was. Death is far better than an entire life spent with your sore absence, than an empty life."  
On that note, he climbed on the parapet, and spread his arms.  
"So here I am, Fantasio. I'm coming to you. And this time, no one will stop me."  
And slowly, as a bird taking its last flight towards freedom, he leaned forward, and let himself fall in the emptiness. 

**IV**

Fantasio ran out from the castle, followed by the Count. They jumped in the turbotraction, and Fantasio made the engine roar, turning the flight mode on:  
"We won't go far, driving with all that snow" he muttered.  
While the Count nervously fastened his seatbelt, Fantasio flew the car out of the garage then out of the yard, and plunged towards the forest.  
"M. Count, do you think Spirou is actually going to try and kill himself?"  
Pacome sighed:  
"I know it doesn't look like him, but I have a bad feeling about this. I've never seen him so devastated. He barely spoke in two months. I think his grief is too deep, and pain can push even the bravest people to do the most desperate things."  
Fantasio didn't answer, but he accelerated.  
The snow was too heavy, and they nearly crashed in the trees several times:  
"Fantasio, turn on the automatic pilot!"  
The blonde reluctantly obeyed, and he yelled:  
"Direction: the old tower of Champignac!"  
The car recorded the instruction, and plunged even faster between the trees:  
"Faster...FASTER!" Fantasio exclaimed  
" Oh my..." the Count whined.

They finally got to the Tower. It was a medieval ruin, built by the Count's ancestor Hippolyte de Champignac. Fantasio jumped out of the car, and placed his hand on his eyes. There, his heart froze. He could distinctly see a human shape at the top of the tower. In his mind, the image of Spirou falling from the cliff appeared once more, and he yelled:  
"No...No! Not again!"  
He ran into the tower and began climbing the steps, screaming Spirou's name. But Spirou couldn't hear. Fantasio put all his strength in the climb, and the ascent seemed to be endless.  
"Spirou! Spirou please, WAIT!"

At the foot of the tower, the Count was also yelling and making great gestures to Spiroy, but the latter couldn't see. His eyes were fixed on the horizon, and he was holding something in his hand, talking to the wind:  
"Spirou! Spirou!" the Count kept calling.  
But suddenly, Spirou climbed the parapet.  
"Oh my lord, this is horrible. Spirou don't do this! Fantasio get the heck up there thousand hells!" the Count exclaimed.  
But then he fell silent with horror, as Spirou spread his arms. At this moment, the Count knew ot was too late.

His lungs were burning, his legs and arms aching, but nothing could stop Fantasio. Yelling his partner's name, unwearingly, he climbed the steps of that diabolic tower. Now he could hear the wind, and it carried the voice he knew so well, and his heart slowly filled itself with a mixing of unspeakable hope as well as the utmost terror to be too late. He couldn't stand the idea. For months he had dreamt of that moment, he had prayed countless times a God he didn't believe in for Spirou to come back, he had been ready to give his life to see him again. And now that the very love of his life was just a few feet away from him... No, it was too cruel:  
"If Spirou dies, this time, I'll die with him." Fantasio exclaimed.  
At last, he rushed out of the stairs, on the top, slipping in the snow. He fell on his knees, and finally, he saw him, and his heart stopped. Spirou was there, his back turned. He had climbed the parapet, and spread his arms like an eagle his wings. He was going to fall.

When Spirou felt he was falling forward, he closed his eyes and invoked Fantasio's face. But suddenly, as his feet had almost left the stone, the voices in the air turned into a true desperate cry, and someone grabbed him by his belt, with astonishing strength. Spirou was violently pulled backwards, and he heavily fell on his back. He didn't have time to wonder what happened when he found himself wrapped into an embrace so tight he could barely breathe. But when he heard the voice, he almost fainted.  
"I'm not losing you again! You hear me? NEVER AGAIN!" Fantasio cried out.  
Burying Spiou's face into his shoulder, Fantasio held him with all his strength, crying. He could barely believe this was true: until the very last moment, he had feared it was all an enormous lie.  
Spirou finally disengaged himself from his embrace, and when his brown eyes met the blue ones, he couldn't say a word. Slowly, he raised his hand and stroked Fantasio's cheek.  
" It can't be… God, am I dead already?" he whispered  
Fantasio let out a sob:  
"No, baby, you're not dead. Thank God, you're not dead. Oh, thousand thunders, you're not dead…."  
And embracing Spirou in his arms, he pressed his lips on the ginger head's frozen ones, and kissed him with all his heart.  
Spirou was in shock, but slowly, he realized he was not dreaming. His prayers had been heard. Fantasio was alive. He smothered a sob against Fantasio's lips, and answered with passion to his kiss, crying and laughing at the same time. Then he took his face into his hands, and they looked at each other, as if they were looking at the most beautiful treasure. And Spirou burst into tears, shaking violently:  
"I thought I had lost you forever, he said with difficulty  
- Oh I know, shhhh….I know, honey. So did I…..Come here…" Fantasio answered.  
Translating words into action, he pulled Spirou back in his arms, and pressed his face into his chest. There, he stroke his hair, and started rocking back and forth, blessing these tears he could feel on his skin, echoing those rolling down his own cheeks:  
"My sweetheart… It's over now, we're together again. Nothing, no one will ever separate us again, I promise you." He said in his deep voice.  
Spirou couldn't answer. Clinging to Fantasio, he was completely submerged by emotion. Suddenly, Fantasio realized tears were not the only reason Spirou was shaking.  
"Baby, you're completely frozen. Here, put this on."  
He loosened his embrace, and took off his great coat, with which he wrapped Spirou's shoulders. Then he kissed him again, wiping his tears. Spirou smiled, kissed him back, and nestled his face into his neck:  
"God, I can't believe it…." He whispered.  
Fantasio hugged him even tighter, protecting him as he could from the cold wind, sweeping away the snow in his red hair.

"In the name of all mushrooms of Champignac!" a voice exclaimed behind them.  
They both raised their heads: the Count had finally managed to climb the stairs:  
" I feared the worst", he said, collapsing with fatigue into the snow.  
"It's over now, M. Count, we're both fine", Fantasio answered, still holding Spirou.  
The latter disengaged from his arms :  
"But how on EARTH is that possible? I saw you die! And… what about this?"  
He showed the ring to Fantasio, who smiled, and held up the one he thought was Spirou's:  
"It was all a masquerade. These are replicas. They wanted to drive us mad, to break us into telling them where Dr. Nutshell was."  
Spirou remained silent.  
"But how…. I don't understand.  
- It's all right, darling, Pacome is going to explain it all to you. Now come, let's go home.  
- That's it boys, let's return to the castle. My old bones are aching"  
Spirou looked once more at the two replicas, then took them both. He stood up, went towards the edge. Worried, Fantasio followed him:  
"Spirou, what are you doing?"  
The young man turned back and stroked his cheek:  
"Don't worry, darling. I am just putting all this story behind us. Forever."  
And with an ample gesture, he threw the cursed rings into the emptiness, where they fell as he would have, if Fantasio hadn't held him back. Then he took Fantasio's hands and plunged his eyes into the blue ones:  
"I will never, ever let anything happen to you. Do you hear me, Fantasio? I have lived the worst two months of my life. I don't want to live this again, ever."  
Fantasio took his face into his tall hands:  
"And I will never, ever let anything happen to you either, Spirou, and I lived a real nightmare too."  
On that note, they kissed tenderly, then went to join the Count, holding hands, and feeling stronger than ever, for they were reunited for life.


	8. The date

« E luceeeeevan le steeeellleeeeeee….. »  
Fantasio's baritone voice was resonating from the bathroom, where he was singing for an invisible audience. At this sound, Spirou, as always, stopped what he was doing and closed his eyes, and let himself be carried. Fantasio had a beautiful voice, when he spoke as well as when he sang. In any case, it was for Spirou.  
But when he recalled the reason why Fantasio was such in a good mood, his smile died away and his face turned into a sad expression: Fantasio had a date with a woman.

"If you saw her, Spirou, I'm sure your hopeless heart of bachelor would give out at once, the blonde said to him on the cursed evening he had met her, his eyes lit with a flame that hurt Spirou.  
"Ah? Spirou had answered, in a superhuman effort to repress the urge to plunge his fist into the wall.  
- Oh yes…She is super smart, cultivated, funny…. And absolutely gorgeous, Fantasio had went on, spinning on himself like a teenager, his hands joined, worshipping the invisible image of that woman Spirou was cursing with all his heart.  
- Hmm….Surely she's not single…., had hoped the red-headed.  
- Surprisingly, she is. It's a sign! We got on very well at once…."  
And Fantasio had told Spirou, with a thousand emphatic details. They ran into each other as Fantasio was leaving the Moustic. All his things had flown everywhere, and he had started yelling as usual, when he saw the "absolute beauty" in front of whom he was standing, who had hastened to gather all his affairs , her beautiful face imprinted with deep embarrassement:  
"Oh I am truly sorry sir, I had my head in the clouds…." She had apologized, with her "deliciously sweet voice".  
Fantasio's heart had melt at once, and he had hastened to help her picking up his things, apologizing for his bad temper. She had laughed, and Fantasio had been definitely conquered, immediately inviting her to have a drink. Of course, Spirou scowled, she had accepted, and they had spent "two marvelous hours".

And tonight, a week after they met, Fantasio counted on "making out"….  
"Don't you think it's a bit too early? Spirou risked.  
- What? God, Spirou, you have a hell of a lot things to learn!" Fantasio laughed, before going into the bathroom.  
When he got out, he said:  
"So, how am I?"  
Spirou turned around, and his heart missed a beat: Fantasio was magnificient. His blond hair was more rebel than ever, and he was dressed simply but smartly, with a white linen shirt opening on his chest like the most delicious invitation, and with a dark jean matching his Italian shoes. On top of that, he was wearing the dark blue velvet coat, matching his eyes, which Spirou had offered him for his thirtieth birthday.  
"Your gift is going to pay off, tonight…., he said maliciously  
- mmh.. Had I known…. Spirou muttered.  
- What? Fantasio asked, having not heard.  
- Nevermind.  
- You are being strange, Spirou, are you all right?  
- Of course I am! Haha, mate it's great really, what's happening to you."  
But Fantasio couldn't be fooled so easily. He clearly saw that Spirou wasn't well.  
Suddenly he smiled:  
"Ooooooh! I got it!"  
Bursting out laughing, he sat next to Spirou and tousled his hair, provoking a powerful heat wave into Spirou's lower abdomen, which made the latter blush almost as much as his mane:  
"You are jealous because for once, I have more success with girls than you do!  
- What the hell are you saying, Fantasio? That's ridiculous.  
- Ahh, com'on, don't worry. I'll teach you, young Padawan!  
- I'm telling you I don't want a girlfriend, I already have sufficient fish to fry" Spirou retorted.  
Statement that widened Fantasio's smile.  
"Ohhh, wait! I got it now…. You're gay, and you're crazy about me!" The blonde laughed, encircling Spirou's shoulders with his arm.

This was too much.

Spirou brusquely disengaged himself from Fantasio's embrace, and went mechanically polish the kitchen table, under the reporter's dumbfounded eyes. He HAD to do something. Anything. As long as he got away from Fantasio's aura, which tortured him.  
"What on earth are you doing?, the latter asked.  
- Errr… Well I'm cleaning. It's important to live in a clean house. Too many people live in hovels, look at that stain… It's a bacteria gatherer, and bacteria cause all sorts of diseases like…er…well like cholera, plague….or green fever from the marshes…Even though this one is rarely caught into a kitchen…Except if you're name is Vito Cortizone…."  
He was saying absolute nonsense, he knew it, and it only increased his blushing. It was a nightmare.  
Fantasio's smile died on his lips, and he stood up, came closer to Spirou who kept delivering his nonsense while he polished a surgically-clean table. Worried, he stopped him by placing his tall hand on Spirou's.  
"Spirou, what is the matter with you? I was joking, come on, you do know that right?" Fantasio gently asked.  
Spirou forced himself to look at Fantasio. His gaze met the blue eyes, and slid, guilty, on the rest of his face. His freckles, his thirty-year-old wrinkles, his long nose. Then he imagined his thin lips on that woman's, and he turned his eyes away again. Disengaging his hand, he repressed the wave of tears which assaulted his throat, and went sit down again in front of his computer:  
"I do…I do. I'm fine, okay?" he stuttered.  
But Fantasio was now truly concerned. He went sit next to him, and firmly shut the cover.  
"Spirou. I have always been your best friend, I know you by heart. And I know when something's wrong, and honestly, you've been acting strangely for a week. So, I won't leave until you tell me what's bothering you so much."  
The red-headed lowered his eyes, but did not answer.  
"What the hell has got into you, thousand thunders? I do not recognize you anymore, mate." Fantasio softened.  
Spirou raised his eyes again to Fantasio's. For years, he had been anticipating that very moment, the moment where he would have to confess. He had built extraordinary plans, blazing and passionate speeches imagined the most beautiful declaratione of love of all times. But all his plans, all his means were sucked up at once by these two azure apples, which stared at him concern and incomprehension.

He didn't know. He didn't know anymore.

He could find neither his words, nor his breath; his heart was beating until it broke its prison of flesh and bones.  
"Come on, tell him. Tell him everything. He is your best friend. He will understand. And he may feel the same for you…., a voice was saying.  
- Don't, that's ridiculous! Come on, he's got a date with a woman. It means two things: first, he's hetero, thus he doesn't love you, and he never will. Don't do that, you would lose him forever.  
- If you shut up, your suffering will be atrocious.  
- Indeed, but at least he will never know and you'll keep him by your side.  
- Not f he decides to get married with her."  
That last observation convinced him. He took a deep breath.

" Talk to me, Spirou.  
- Err… Ok, here's the thing. I…."  
He stooped, lowered his eyes.  
" Yes? Come on, old friend, get it off of your chest."  
Spirou closed his eyes.  
"Fantasio, I…."

He stopped again.

Fantasio didn't utter a word.

Eventually, as if he had lost control of himself, he let out:  
"I'm concerned about what you told me last week about Prunelle."  
They stared at each other, both surprised.

"But what the hell are you talking about?!, Fantasio exclaimed  
- Err…Well you know.. Last week you told me Prunelle was on sick leave, and that you thought he was having a nervous breakdown." Spirou recalled, holding onto whatever he could to make his lie credible.  
Fantasio couldn't believe what he was hearing.  
"And this has bothered you for a WEEK?  
- Well yeah…. You know, I like Leon. I'm worried about him".  
The red-headed tried to stick an innocent smile up his burning face, and Fantasio frowned:  
"You're lying to me, Spirou.  
- What? No I'm not! No seriously I'm not, I'm angry at myself because just before he left…er….I…I had a fight with him, Spirou invented.  
- What? How so?  
- Errrr… Well yeah, I got mad because he told me the paper risked being too late to be released on time, and I told him he was as useful as Lagaffe. As you can imagine, he didn't like it."  
His lie was just enormous, but it was all he could do. Fantasio remained silent for a moment:  
"It's not like you. I could have said that.  
- I know, I know… Well I guess you have rubbed off on me! Spirou said, forcing himself to laugh in a detached way. No, seriously, you understand, I feel guilty because I'm sure I have something to do with his nervous breakdown ."  
Fantasio seemed convinced:  
"Oh come on, of course you don't. You know Prunelle is a bit cracked, always pessimistic. And Gaston does drive him mad. No, honestly you musn't feel guilty, Spirou, it's none of your making. If you want, I'll talk to him when he comes back…  
- W…What? NO! Er… nonononono! Don't do that!" Spirou panicked.  
Fantasio looked at him, puzzled. Spirou cursed himself, for he had really put himself in a hell of a mess.  
"No, I don't want you to talk to him about this, I'd rather act as if nothing had happened. If he comes back from a nervous breakdown, the last thing to do is to plunge him back into the reasons which sent it there! No, no…I'll talk to him myself, but later".

Fantasio didn't say a thing, and Spirou knew he didn't believe him.  
There came a very awkward silence, that seemed to last forever for Spirou.

"Anyway! I don't want you to be late because of me! You have to fly" he said, getting up again.  
His trick worked. His beloved's face seemed to invade Fantasio's head again, wiping out his last doubts  
"You're right, I should go. How do you find me?  
- You are perfect, Fantasio", Spirou answered, almost adding "as usual".  
Fantasio smiled, and grabbed the keys of the turbotraction:  
"You're going with the turbo?  
- Hell yes, I'm not going with the fantacopter! Fantasio laughed, all right Casanova, duty is calling me! See you tomorrow."  
He headed towards the door, and Spirou followed him with his eyes, his heart full of regrets. Fantasio probably felt it, for he stopped in front of the door, and turned around:  
"You sure you're gonna be okay, Spirou? I can cancel, if you want" he offered.  
His question moved Spirou, but he pulled himself together and answered in a cheerful voice:  
" And miss the only woman that will ever want you? You're crazy! Come on, don't worry about me. I'm gonna watch a movie." He said, turning the TV on.  
Fantasio looked puzzled, then smiled:  
"The only woman who… you bloody bastard !"  
And on that note, he went out and shut the door.

Alone, Spirou let out a deep sigh. He turned the TV off with a weary gesture, and threw the zapper on the sofa. He looked at Spip:  
"I was miserable, my old Spip. I'm a coward, a loser…"  
His eyes filled with tears, and he headed sadly towards the stairs. The only thing he wanted now was throwing himself on his bed and drown his misery, his anger and his frustration in sleep. But he knew that his dreams would be haunted, again, with Fantasio's laugh and perfume, whereas at the same time, the man of his life would be offering his body, his lips and his love to another.

He arrived to the door of his room and put his hand on the handle. But then he changed his mind, and went to Fantasio's room. There, he lied in the sheets, and the blonde's smell finished him off. Tears rolled down his cheeks, and he curled up on himself, deeply breathing that perfume he'd been cherishing for so long.

As he was silently sobbing into the pillow, he felt little paws moving up the bed. Spip let out a small whine, and went nestle against his friend, wiping his tears with his diaphanous tail. In his sorrow, Spirou held him tight, and, slowly, he eventually fell asleep, clinging to the treacherous, but so sweet illusion to be nestling in Fantasio's arms.


	9. Spicy meeting

Spirou is definitely what they could call a perfect man. Handsome, clever and brave, he's also humble, noble and polite in all circumstances. As such, he would cut his own hands rather than telling Prunelle that the meeting is dragging on, and that he's bored to death. Suffering in silence, he hides his inopportune yawns behind a courteous and furtive hand, and pretends to be taking notes in order to prevent his eyes from shutting. On top of that, he nods his head in agreement when Prunelle, nervous as usual, looks for his support (what he simply doesn't stop doing, peering at him there and then, what makes Spirou's ordeal greater.

Fantasio, on the other hand, is a lot less obliging. Already as a child, his head was in the clouds in class, and he kept drawing and writing stories, standing up to the teacher by telling them that "if school led to be a teacher, then he had a hell of a lot of better things to do". His legendary temper has followed him until the adulthood, and he never bothers telling things frankly to people, what keeps getting him into the worst kind of trouble (Spirou has some knowledge about it…).  
His head lounging in his hand, he draws on his rare notes, and lets out deep sighs while looking at his watch. Yet, Prunelle, who knows him well, ignores him.

Feeling that Fantasio is trampling on, Spirou slight turns towards him:  
"Will you calm down, damn it?" he snubs him in a whisper.  
Fantasio gives him an outraged look:  
"What? Don't I have the right to be dying in peace?  
- You're making me nervous, wriggling like a worm! And honestly, this is no very nice for Leon.  
- Oh come on, who cares! He keeps telling the same rubbish "we have to increase production rate", "earning-power….", "De mesmaeker's coming back next week, this time will be the time…", "Gaston has done this, Gaston has done that…..". and so on and so forth and so on and so forth! Man, I'm done with it all this shit, Fantasio says louder, losing his temper.  
- Huuush now Fantasio!  
- What, whaat whaaat ? Fantasio is hacked off, all right?! Fantasio is going to get his damn ass the hell out of this place in two seconds and a half, and more, Fantasio has been extremely polite until now, not telling Leon that his damn meeting is the same as pissing in a damn violin!  
- Is there a problem, Fantasio?" Leon ends up asking him, irritated.  
Fantasio is going to explode. He stand up, ready to let out a storm of curses, but Spirou is faster: he grabs his sleeve and forces him to sit down:  
"Err not at all, Leon, not at all…. We were just arguing about something….The debate is closed, anyway.  
- Spirou, I don't…., Fantasio protests sharply  
- I said: he debate is CLOSED." Spirou shuts him up, shooting him a dirty look.  
Leon resumes his never-ending litany, while Fantasio, furious, is scowling in his seat, after looking daggers at Spirou:  
"Gnagnagna the debate is closed….You little snot" he grumbles.  
Spirou can't help it:a slight smile appears on his lips. Fantasio's bad temper is actually one of the things he loves about his best friend and lover: he's a flamboyant character, with whom you never get bored. But he hides his smile and pretends to be angry:  
" Old kid!" he retorts in a whisper.  
The meeting is going on, and Spirou tries waking up a little: he helps himself with a glass of water, which he offers Fantasio, but the latter doesn't grant him a look, shut in his sulk, his arms crossed on his chest. Spirou shrugs, empties the glass, and focuses again on Prunelle.

Ten minutes have passed. Spirou really starts dozing off, and Fantasio, little by little, gets out of his sulk, for suddenly, he has an idea. A malicious smile appears on his thin lips, and he turns his head towards Spirou. At the sight of him fighting against sleep, his smile widens, moved. He observes him: his glance strokes his red mane, his strong jaw, his delicate neck, his bawdy chest which slowly rises and falls, giving away his somnolence state. A guilty heat invades his lower abdomen, and slowly, gently, he reaches out his hand, determined to carry out his plan.  
While Spirou is starting dreaming, he suddenly feels Fantasio's tall hand on his crotch. The young man starts, and makes a brusque movement that hits the carafe of water in front of him, which pours all his content on his notes. Amazed by Fantasio's daring, he completely ignores the water spreading on the table:  
"Fantasio but….It's not something you do right in the middle of a meeting, are you crazy?  
- Mmmh yes, I'm crazy about you…. Fantasio purrs.  
- Okay the two guys in the back, Prunelle loses his temper, when you are done drowning the table and the entire building, maybe we can go on?"  
Fantasio gives him a harsh look, and is going to shut him up with a scathing reply when Spirou, once more, defuses the situation:  
"I'm sorry, Leon, It's my fault. Hem…That reworking issue is making me nervous, he invents, keep going, I'm going to clean this mess."  
He grants Fantasio another dirty look, but the aroused glow he encounters into his turquoise apples makes his annoyance melt. He blushes and lowers his head:  
"Fantasio, stop it.  
- Oh come on, you're dying for it, Fantasio whispers, plunging his greedy hand under Spirou's T-shirt.  
- Of course I do, but we're not animals, we're not going to copulate right on the table!  
- Who said something about copulate ON the table?" Fantasio laughs quietly, making his hand travel up along Spirou's bawdy back, making the latter tremble with arousal.  
They look at each other, knowing something for sure: now that the idea has been floated, they can't resist.

Placing his tall hand gently around the back of Spirou's neck, Fantasio plunges his blue eyes into the red-headed amber-colored ones:  
"Trust me, darling." He whispers.  
He rises, smiling, and go back up the room towards the board in front of which Prunelle is talking, and the latter gives him a puzzled look:  
"W…Well Fantasio, I'm not done yet! He says  
- I know Leon, I just wanted to ask you if you would be so kind as to give me one of the roll of paper towels which are in the sideboard, right behind you, if you don't mind, of course!"  
Prunelle complies, suspicious of that unusual affability, and Fantasio grabs the roll:  
"Thank you. Keep going man, you're doing good! Don't mind us, we're going to clean it all up."  
And smiling as a teenager, he heads back towards Spirou, while Prunelle resumes his talking before an audience which, anyway, has lost interest for a long time. Reaching his seat, Fantasio detaches a few pieces of paper and gives them to Spirou with a huge smile:  
"Come on baby, let's get to it!" he says.  
Spirou turns crimson. He starts mopping up the table, embarrassed to death, but Fantasio grabs him and pulls him under the table. Receiving him in his arms, he pins it to the table leg, and dives on his mouth like a hungry eagle, imprisoning his face into his hands. Spirou answers with passion, but he finally repels the blonde:  
"Fantasio, really, the room is not that large, they are going to see us! He whispers, panting.  
- Chhhh…now, now, Fantasio answers tenderly, where is your sense of adventure? [Kisses his lips] You're taste for risk? [Kisses his eye]. Come on, let go….[Nibbles his ear] Everything is fine…[Kisses his forehead]. Chhh, everything is fine, my love… [Kisses his nose]"  
But Spirou repels him again:  
"No really, Fantasio, it isn't done…"  
Fantasio rolls his eyes:  
"Spirou, listen to me. They are all turned towards Leon, and the most part is holding their hand in front of their eyes, which means they are sleeping, or are about to be. So relax, and come here, thousand hells!"  
He pulls him back into his arms, and kisses him with even more fever, drinking his throat, his hands dancing under his clothes. Spirou closes his eyes, tries to resist, but he doesn't stand a chance against Fantasio's wild embraces which wrap him up whole into a cocoon of love and tenderness:  
"Oh, damn it, to hell with them…  
- Tututut….Now, now, darling, I thought you were the archetype of the always polite and courteous gentleman, Fantasio says, putting a finger on his lips.  
- Mmmh I'm gonna show you if I'm polite and courteous…" Spirou whispers, showing his teeth like a starving wolf seeing a juicy sheep.  
On that note, he jumps on Fantasio and pins it to the wet floor. The blonde giggles with delight and pulls Spirou into a torrid kiss.

Then Spirou grabs his wrists and press them against the floor, a devilish smile on his lips. Fantasio rises his eyes on him, and his heart bursts with desire: he has always had the soul of an artist, particularly sensitive to the beauty of things, and Spirou keeps fascinating him. To Fantasio, Spirou is perfect, rightful reincarnation of Adonis and Antinous, and the greatest painters of all times would have killed themselves to draw his portrait. He himself loves drawing, painting of taking photographs of him, even though Spirou is not fond of that.  
While he dives into the young man's golden and amber-colored eyes, his overflowed-with-love heart is suddenly clutched by a dark fear that has been torturing him for years: Spirou is so beautiful, so perfect, that he can only end up getting tired of a man like Fantasio, were it only because the latter was almost ten years older than him. Spirou, who knows by heart each of the slightest expression on Fantasio's face, notices that glow of doubt into his eyes. He knows that glow, for he knows that deep inside, Fantasio lacks of self-confidence. Thus, he gently puts his hand on his cheek:  
"Fantasio, you are my entire life, everything I have ever desired. I will never be able to love anyone else, ever."  
Fantasio is moved, and he smiles, happy:  
"I love you to death, Spirou" he says, from the deepest of his heart.  
The ginger smiles back, then pins again his wrists on the ground:  
"Well, anyway, you challenged the lion…. And now, the lion is hungry…" he whispers devilishly.  
And while Fantasio is repressing a loud giggle, Spirou pitilessly dives on the delicious white throat of that man who drives him crazy, thinking that finally, business meetings can sometimes be somewhat spicy…


End file.
